“But the Time is on our side,” I said, glancing back at our henchmen. “They look pretty tough.”
“They are,” Aech said. “Prince created their band, but they were all so insanely talented that they evolved and grew into something beyond his control. They aren’t going to save us though, Z. If we’re really lucky, they might be able to help us take down Graffiti Bridge Prince and the NPG. Maybe even Proto-Prince too. But the others—” She shook her head. “No way, no day. It would take a miracle for us to survive this fight. I’m not trying to be negative here. I’m just trying to prepare you for what’s about to go down.”
“Great,” I said, slapping her on the back. “Excellent confidence booster. Thanks, Aech.”
She turned to look at Shoto.
“What about you, ‘Living Correct’？” she said. “Do you play any musical instruments? I mean, other than the kazoo?”
Shoto scowled at her and shook his head. Aech sighed. Then she opened her inventory and took out a tambourine and tossed it to him. He caught it one-handed.
“Do your best with that,” she told him.
“So what instrument do you play, Aech?” Shoto asked indignantly.
“Don’t worry about me,” she replied. “I sing.” She glanced at me. “You ready to do this, Z?”
I nodded and gave her a thumbs-up and she gave me one in return, then she took a deep breath and led us forward, through the open gates of the arena, with the original seven members of Morris Day and the Time backing us up.
When all ten members of our party had passed through the gates, it triggered a needle drop, and the song “Thieves in the Temple” began to play as a dense red fog appeared. It swirled around our legs as it rapidly blanketed the entire floor of the courtyard. Aech led us to the center of the arena, then motioned for us to stop there.
“The Three Chains of Gold will protect us from their attacks for a limited amount of time!” she shouted to me and Shoto. “We need to make it count, and funk them up as much as we can, while we can! Understood?”
Before we could reply, there was a booming crash of thunder, and streaks of purple lightning arced across the sky over our heads.
“Prepare yourselves for battle!” Aech shouted to our entire crew. “The Seven are being teleported here now, from different parts of the Afterworld.”
Then Aech said what she always used to say to me, whenever we appeared to be facing a no-win situation: “Nice working with you, Dr. Venkman.”
This always used to make me chuckle, but now it hit too close to home.
“See ya on the other side, Ray,” I recited, clutching the neck of the Cloud Guitar like it was a particle-thrower.
As we spoke, seven large glass cylinders began to rise up out of the billowing red fog, forming a wide circle around us. Each of these glass cylinders had a metal cap at the top and the bottom, like a giant fuse. And standing motionless inside each of them was a different incarnation of His Royal Badness. Each one had a different hairstyle and outfit, apparently representing different stylistic phases of Prince’s career.
Before I could get a good look at any of them through the fog, all seven chambers opened and the Seven Princes emerged in unison, stepping forward into the arena. As they did so, the menacing opening guitar riff of the song “When Doves Cry” began to echo through the arena at earsplitting volume. When the drums kicked in a few seconds later, all seven incarnations of Prince stretched out their arms as one and began to rise slowly from the ground. I craned my neck upward to see them all hovering directly above us, glaring down at us like seven angry Kryptonian gods intent on giving us a Smallville-style smackdown.
They were a terrifying sight to behold.
“Don’t look directly in their eyes!” I heard Aech shout at us. “Never look in any of their eyes, OK?”
I immediately averted my eyes and saw Shoto do the same thing. Aech caught us both staring at the ground.
“I didn’t tell you to avoid looking at them!” Aech shouted. “Just avoid looking any of them in the eye for longer than a second or two, or they’ll go berserk, OK?”
I nodded and glanced back up at them, still levitating above and around us, in what was now a slowly rotating circle.
The most imposing to me, by far, was Purple Rain Prince. He wore a pair of gleaming mirror shades, a shirt with a white ruffled collar, red pants, and a shiny purple trench coat with studs on the left shoulder. For some reason, he looked like the most pissed-off one of the bunch. He was also the first one to speak. He pointed down at us with one accusing finger.